


How To Break An Angel

by NammiKisulora



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Canonical major character death, Cas' POV, Drug Abuse, Drugs, Episode: s05e04 The End, F/M, Fairly dark, Gen, Minor Character Death, Sex with various partners, The End 'Verse, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-03
Updated: 2013-01-17
Packaged: 2017-11-20 05:51:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/581988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NammiKisulora/pseuds/NammiKisulora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the story of how Castiel, Angel of the Lord, became Cas, the broken, orgy-organizing junkie of The End 'verse. What happened during those five years? How did Cas end up that way? What happened between him and Dean? This story follows him down the path of sex, drugs and booze, as he slowly breaks, piece by piece...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prolouge - Overdose

**Author's Note:**

> This is a heavily edited/rewritten version of my fic "The End" from FF.net. It's unbeta'd and I am not a native English speaker, so feel free to point out any mistakes! I always appriciate constructive criticism.
> 
> I also especially want to thank Cyberbutterfly on FF.net for being so helpful and encouraging during the original writing process a year ago, with many wonderful reviews and great suggestions!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This prolouge takes place in late winter 2012, when Cas OD's and Dean saves his life, for better or worse.

Someone bangs on the door.

 

“Cas?” Cas lazily opens his eyes and glances towards the door, and finds that his mouth can’t form a coherent reply, so his eyes drift shut again, ignoring the continued pounding. “Cas? Cas, what the hell?” Cas wonders if he should be annoyed at the pounding, and Dean’s shouts, but discovers he doesn’t care, he just wants to sleep…

 

The door bangs open, and Cas feels himself drifting deeper into the darkness, the comfort of oblivion enveloping him… Then the door bangs open, and Dean’s shout jerks him back towards reality.

 

“You stupid son of a bitch!” Cas forces his eyes to open slightly, blearily seeing Dean slam the door closed and cross the room to lift the pill bottle lying on the floor next to the bed. “Morphine? All of it?” Cas lets his eyes drift shut again, only to jerk them open again as Dean slaps him, hard. “Cas!” Cas’ cheek stings, and he groans, why can’t Dean just leave him alone? He closes his eyes again, determined to ignore Dean. The world starts to slip away again, and for a few seconds the feeling of bliss returns, before another slap and Dean hauling him into sitting positions disturbs him again. “Cast, for fuck’s sake!” Dean props him up against the wall, Cas’ head lolls onto one shoulder and he limply slumps sideways, Dean’s grip on his shoulder the only thing holding him upright.

 

He tries to turn his head away as Dean pries open one eyelid, taking in the pinpoint pupil in the dim light of the cabin, but Dean holds him steady, apparently determined not to leave him alone.

 

Cas murmurs something without being entirely sure what he wants to convey, every thought taking too much effort to finish. All he knows is that he wants Dean to stop, to leave him alone, because it felt so good before Dean had to come and bother him.

 

“Cas, damnit… c’mon, man, wake up!” Cas tries to struggle for a moment when Dean suddenly pulls him to his feet, dragging him across the cabin to the sink, but gives up almost immediately, lacking the energy for everything but weakly wishing he could have the previous feeling of empty bliss back. His weak, flopping movements only seem to make Dean more determined anyway.

 

He can’t hold himself upright, and Dean lets them both sink to their knees in front of the sink, holding Cas steady with an arm around his chest. Then he unceremoniously forces Cas’ mouth open, shoving two non-too-gentle fingers down his throat.

 

Cas gags, his stomach lurching, and he retches, almost falling face first into the sink as he throws up, feeling the bitter taste of pills and bile in his mouth. When he’s done, Dean fumbles for a glass on the counter, and after finally finding one, he fills it with water that he forces Cas to drink.

 

Most of it splashes over his chin and chest, but he manages to swallow a little, already feeling a bit more awake, though Dean is still all that holds him upright. His stomach churns uncomfortably, and he only manages a few mouthfuls of a second glass before he throws up again. Dean holds him tightly, supporting his head over the sink as he retches, his whole body convulsing.

 

They repeat this a few times, until Cas is trembling all over, his throat raw and aching, and he has nothing left to throw up. His head feels clearer as well, and though his limbs feel heavy and lethargic, he can keep his eyes open and form coherent words. He hates it.

 

“No…” he mutters as Dean tries to make him drink another glass of water, turning his head away from it. “Stoppit…” He is almost surprised when Dean obeys, setting down the glass and carefully lowers them both to the floor, Dean with his back against the wall and Cas leaning against his chest, head falling back against Dean’s shoulder. He closes his eyes again, wondering if Dean will finally let him rest now, he’s still so tired. Although the soft darkness and blissful oblivion is gone, all he wants to do is sleep. Maybe there would be some peace left there, if Dean would only let him be for long enough.

 

However, Dean has no such plans. Just as Cas starts drifting, trying his best to ignore the lingering nausea and the pain in his throat and stomach, Dean shakes him roughly.

 

“Sleep…” Cas mumbles drowsily, considering elaborating for a second, but decides against it. Dean won’t listen anyway, so what’s the point?

 

“The hell you will! I’m not going to let you die just ‘cause you fall asleep now, you stupid son of a bitch!” He pushes Cas off him, and gets to his feet. Cas slumps against the wall, but manages to brace his hand on the floor to avoid crashing sideways. He looks at Dean through half-closed eyes. Dean runs his fingers through his hair, taking a few deep breaths. He bites his lip for a second, his eyes squeezed shut, obviously trying to keep himself from shouting. “What the hell were you trying to do, man?” Cas sighs and looks away, attempting to push himself into a straighter sitting position. “Answer me, damnit!” The attempt is interrupted by Dean grabbing hold of his arms, pulling him to his feet. “Were you trying to off yourself, huh? Were you?” He’s stopped trying not to shout, Cas notes as he stumbles, catching himself on the edge of the sink.

 

He tries to steady himself without Dean’s help and focuses his eyes on a spot a few inches to the left of Dean’s feet.. Different answers to the question

 

_Yes. No. Maybe. I don’t know, I really don’t, you have to believe me, Dean_

 

run through his head, and he wonders which one will cause the least damage.

 

“Dunno…” is what he settles for. Dean doesn’t move or speak for almost a full minute, and Cas dares to raise his eyes from the floor to look at him. He may not be able to read Dean with the same accuracy as before, but right now it isn’t hard to pick out the range of conflicting emotions flashing across his face. Disbelief mixed with fury are the dominating ones, but Cas is certain he can detect a hint of sadness there as well. His hands are clenched into fists, his arms tensely hanging at his sides.

 

“You. Don’t. Know.” His voice is barely a whisper now, and he scrubs his hands over his face, half-turning away. “You don’t fucking _know_.” Suddenly he’s close, very close, gripping Cas’ upper arms tightly and shakes him, making his knees buckle. Cas struggles to stay upright, holding on to the edge of the sink as Dean just as suddenly lets go. “Then what the hell were you doing?! What the hell were you thinking, Cas? What was – this about, then? Huh?” He’s shouting again, and with a final push, he lets go, and Cas crashes to the floor.

 

“I –“ Instead of trying to stand again, he settles with is back against the wall, trying to figure out what to say. His mind still feels sluggish and empty, and he wishes Dean would just let him _sleep_. “I jus’ – it felt good. I took some pills, and they – they made me feel good.”

 

“So you just decided to take some more, is that it?” Dean starts pacing around the cabin, clenching and unclenching his fists like he’s trying to stop himself from punching something. _Something that’s most likely me_ , Cas thinks. He closes his eyes again, watching Dean’s movements are making him dizzy and nauseous again. “Is it?”

 

“Yeah, I s’ppose.” He leans his head on the wall, and feels himself start to drift away again. “I jus’ wanted t’ feel good…” Sleep is so close, and so tempting…

 

“Oh no, you won’t!” Dean stops pacing in from of him, roughly jerking him to his feet again. “I told you, I’m not gonna let you die just because you fall asleep now.” Cas sighs and stumbles as Dean pulls his arm around his shoulders and places his arm around his waist.

 

“What’re you doing…” Dean says nothing as he starts walking, pulling Cas, who stumblingly manages to place one foot in front of the other, with him.

 

They walk in circles around the cabin for what feels like hours, Dean occasionally allowing a short rest on a chair, as far from the bed as possible. Cas is exhausted already to begin with, but he finds that it becomes easier to walk after a little while, his feet moving on autopilot, and he only stumbles a few times.

 

They barely speak, and Cas does his best to shut down his mind, unsuccessfully trying to think of nothing at all. Instead the thoughts

 

_Why are you doing this, Dean, why are you saving me, do you still care, why do you still care, are we still friends, why can’t you just let me be, wouldn’t it be better if I could just die, then I would be free and you’d have one thing less to worry about, please, Dean, I’m so tired, what’s the point of keeping me here_

 

race through his head, and he feels a headache building, and his eyes burn with tears he refuses to shed, at least in the presence of Dean.

 

Finally Dean seems satisfied. He dumps Cas onto the bed, where he, to his own surprise, doesn’t immediately retreat into lying position. Instead he sits on the edge, head in his hands, as Dean stands in front of him, moving his hands from his hair to his pockets and back again, seemingly unsure what to do with them.

 

“Alright, Cas, I think you’re good.” Cas laughs aloud, and Dean crosses his arms over his chest. “What?”

 

“No, Dean, I _was_ good.” The laughter ends in a choked sob as Cas remembers the feeling of drug-induced nothing. He takes a sharp breath through his nose, forcing back the impulse to cry. When he looks up at Dean’s face, he seems to be almost speechless with fury.

 

“So you think that was good, huh? That I shoulda left you like that? To – to –“ He’s breathing hard, and his voice is tight with emotion. Cas slowly lies back, turning his face towards the wall and covers his eyes with his arm. He knows that Dean understands perfectly what he means, even though he doesn’t say a word. He hears the rustle of Dean’s clothes as he combs through his hair with his fingers, taking deep breaths to calm himself down. “Well, don’t you ever do this again. ‘Cause I won’t do it again. I – what you’ve become, Cas, it’s –“ Cas props himself up on his elbows so he’s in a half-sitting position, and turns his head to meet Dean’s eyes.

 

“Because what I have become isn’t worth saving.” His voice is calm and steady, but Dean sucks in a sharp breath and recoils like Cas has punched him. He breaks the eye contact first and takes a step back.

 

“Why should I save you if I can’t trust you, Cas?”

 

The words cut deep, just like he knows Dean intended, though he knows he deserves them. He lies back again, face turned to the wall and squeezing his eyes shut as tears fill up his eyes and threaten to fall.

 

The only thing he can think of to say is “ _you shouldn’t_ ”, but he can’t bring himself to do it, because Dean would have no choice but to agree. Whether in words or silence wouldn’t matter, and Cas doesn’t think he can take it being stated black on white.

 

He knows he’s a disappointment to his friend, if he can even call him that anymore. Dean has so many reasons not to care, not to bother with him anymore, and he feels that this probably is the final straw. Something in Dean’s breathing tells him that he’s given up, and even though Cas can’t read his mind anymore, he knows him well enough to hear that he isn’t even angry anymore. He just sounds… tired.

 

He hears Dean walk away, and as the door opens and closes, he stops fighting the tears. The pain of knowing that he has finally lost Dean completely is almost physical and makes him want to scream.

 

He presses the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to relieve the headache that is getting steadily worse. The tears are running freely, and the sobs wracking his body makes his throat ache. He turns onto his stomach, burying his face in the pillow, and wonders why he – his life – ever came to this, and whether it was worth it.

 

He cries until he falls asleep, and his last thought before sleep claims him is that he doubts that there is any way to make Dean feel like his actions weren’t wasted, that Cas is worth saving after all. Castiel was, he knows, but not Cas, not like this, weak and more or less

 

_Useless_

 

completely human. Why, _if_ , Dean still cares, is a mystery to him.

 

**~SPN~SPN~SPN~**

 

“As long as you are here, I will be too.” The language, oddly formal for him these days, seems more like Castiel than Cas, but it seems strangely fitting for this. A vow of allegiance, binding him until Dean’s death,

 

_Please don’t let it be soon, I don’t want to lose you, Dean, but please let it be soon so I can finally be free_

 

a promise that yesterday won’t ever be repeated. He won’t do something like that again, not as long as Dean is alive. However long that will be, Cas doesn’t know, with their _fearless leader_ taking risks like he’s been doing ever since

 

_The angels, my brothers and sisters, left_

 

Sam said “yes” to the Devil. But somehow he knows that Dean’s fate is not yet played out, and he curses himself for making the promise, but when Dean briefly looks at him, meeting his eyes, saying “Good” with a quick half-smile and a nod, Cas knows he can never take it back. Despite not having been a good friend in way too long, despite everything that’s happened, the loyalty to Dean is still there. He will follow his fearless leader to whatever end fate has chosen for them, no matter what is said or done between them. He doesn’t say anything more, but thinks

 

_I won’t leave, Dean, I still care about you, and I will follow you to the end. You deserve at least that from me, whatever I’ve become_

 

before he nods back, and returns to his own cabin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's go back a bit in time to see how Cas and Dean arrived at this point, shall we?
> 
> Reviews and kudos make me happy!


	2. Angels leaving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the night Sam says "yes" to the Devil, and the angels leave, leaving Castiel behind in a lost world. The chapter takes place sometime in 2011.

They’ve just finished a demon hunt somewhere in Wisconsin, and are walking from the Impala towards the house they’re staying in when Castiel feels it happen.

He knows the exact moment Sam gives up and says that fateful “yes” to the Devil. The moment Lucifer takes over his true vessel, Castiel stumbles to his knees, clutching his chest as white-hot pain sears through him, and suddenly his head is filled with an endless repetition of

_Goodbye, Castiel, Goodbye, Castiel, Goodbye Castiel Goodbye Castiel GoodbyeCastielGoodbyeCastielGoodbye_

that is so loud that it feels like his skull will split apart. He can’t hold back the scream of agony that rips from his throat as he realizes what is happening. Every part of him can feel it, feel them

_My brothers, my sisters, the angels_

leave, leave this world to its fate, and Castiel with it. He kneels in the mud, rocking back and forth, and when he touches his face, he can feel that it is wet with tears

_Angels don’t cry_

and his body shakes with violent sobs, the screams having died out along with the voices of the other angels.

“No”, he whispers, gasping for breath and choking on the tears, “no, no, no no no, please, no…” The silence in his head is almost like a physical presence, and the lack of other angels in the world presses down on him, pushing him towards the ground.

“Cas! Cas, what the hell, man!” Castiel barely registers Dean skidding to a stop next to him, and starts when he feels Dean’s hand on his shoulder. “Cas, what’s wrong?” He looks up as Dean kneels next to him, meeting the eyes of the Righteous Man, knowing that, for the first time, nothing truly matters anymore. He takes a shaky breath and Dean frowns. “Cas –“

“They’re gone, Dean.” His voice is hoarse and unsteady, and for the first time he looks away from Dean before he speaks again. “Sam… Sam said yes, Dean.” Dean’s hand falls from Castiel’s shoulder, and he topples backwards as if the words had a physical impact, shouting something that could be a “no”. Castiel barely hears him, not even Dean matters right now. “And then the angels left.” A fresh wave of agony washes over him as he whispers the words aloud, and he doubles over, burying his face in his arms.

When he looks up again, he sees Dean kneeling a few feet away from him, staring emptily in front of him. His mouth is moving slightly without making a sound, and to Castiel, it looks like he’s mouthing random words, ranging from “Sam” to “no” and “please” without forming coherent sentences. The pain in Dean’s eyes is almost enough to momentarily drown Castiel’s own, as he feels it radiating from the man. He clenches and unclenches his fists, and there are tears on his cheeks as he breathes shakily.

Castiel stumbles to his feet, wincing as a sharp pain shoots through his chest, and almost falls again because something

_My Grace, what is happening to my Grace?_

is missing, something that has always been there before, the one thing Castiel would say makes him who he is. With renewed horror he realizes what it is. What he feels is his Grace seeping out of him, because there is no place for a being like him in this world anymore. The angels might have left him behind, but they’re taking the very core of his being with them.

“Dean”, he says, voice hoarse and broken from crying, “Dean, I know.” Without really knowing how, he is suddenly at Dean’s side, placing a hand on his shoulder. Dean starts like he had forgotten Castiel’s presence completely, but leans into the hand on his shoulder.

“Cas, Sammy… he’s gone, Cas. Gone. Forever.” His voice is barely a whisper, and Castiel squeezes his shoulder.

“I know. My brothers are gone too.” Dean nods slowly, then he gets up and brushes away the tears with an angry swipe of his sleeve.

“Guess we’re screwed then”, he says, his voice hard and hollow. “You coming?” Castiel gets up too, wondering how long it will take before Dean breaks. The tears now are nothing, sooner or later someone or something will get hurt. He knows that look, the one that says that Dean will act like everything is fine, until he just can’t do it anymore, and then the inevitable meltdown will be huge.

 _Why did you leave me behind?_ he wonders, glancing up at the sky. _Why didn’t you take me with you?_ He doesn’t expect an answer, and none comes. The silence feels deafening, and he could swear he can feel his Grace trickle away by the second. Soon it’ll be gone completely, and he wonders what he will be then.

 _This is how loneliness feels_ , he thinks before he follows Dean into the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews and kudos are like air and food for a writer. It won't take you long to make me very happy!


	3. The Impala

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Within a week, Cas has lost pretty much all his angelic powers, and he and Dean are on their way to Camp Chitaqua for the first time when the meltdown Cas predicted comes, and something once-precious meets its fate, symbolizing the closing of a chapter in Dean's life.

Cas is correct in his guess that his grace will disappear, fast. Within a week, he has lost pretty much every angelic power, and the pain is unbearable. It’s not physical anymore, more resembling a terrible, endless emptiness, and a silence so compact that it feels like he is drowning in it. Something so huge and important is missing, and he knows he’ll never be whole again.

 

Already the first day after the angels left, he told Dean never to speak his full name again.

 

“Castiel is gone”, he had said. “I’m just Cas now. Please don’t call me anything else.” Dean had just nodded and gone back to drinking his coffee.

 

**~SPN~SPN~SPN~**

 

They’re driving when the meltdown Cas has been expecting since The Night comes, and he is right, something does get hurt. Fortunately it’s not a person, but Cas can’t help but feel that what happens is far more significant than if Dean had ended up punching someone.

 

They’re on their way to a place called Camp Chitaqua, because two days earlier, Dean had got a call from Chuck, who said that some people had gathered there. They were all people who had seen the effects of the apocalypse first hand, and more often than not lost loved ones to it, and most of them were willing to fight. Chuck was on his way there now, and thought that Dean should check it out, because it seemed like a good basecamp.

 

Dean had been reluctant at first, asking what the point would be, fighting is useless at this stage anyway. They argued back and forth for a while, Cas only hearing Dean’s side of the conversation, but apparently Chuck had eventually pulled his final card that finally convinced Dean. Even if Cas couldn’t hear it, it wasn’t hard to figure out what he had said when Dean’s shoulders slumped and he said “fine, we’ll be there in a few days” in a resigned voice. When Cas asked, he confirmed what he had already guessed.

 

“You know what the son of a bitch said? ‘It’s not like you have anything better to do, with Sam and the angels gone’! And then he kept talking about how those people needed me, like I’m some kind of goddamn saviour who can fix this mess. Cas, I’m telling you, man, this – I don’t know what this is. But I know sure as hell that I can’t fix it.” He took a deep breath and sat down at the kitchen table, rubbing a hand over his face. “But I suppose he’s right. There are people there, and they could use someone who knows the business, as well as anyone can. You up for it?” Cas had nodded, the answer obvious even before Dean asked.

 

“Of course.”

 

_Always._

So they had packed up quickly, Cas thankful for a distraction from staring at the wall and feeling miserable, and left the same day, with Dean driving and Cas being in charge of the map.

 

**~SPN~SPN~SPN~**

 

It happens when they’re almost there. They’re driving along the camp’s fence when they hit something on the road, a sharp rock or a piece of glass, and suddenly one of the Impala’s tyres go flat, and before Dean has the chance to react the car swerves off the road, into the forest and through fence, scraping against a tree hard enough to make the hinges on Dean’s door give out. When they skid to a stop a few seconds later, the door falls off.

 

For what probably are only a few moments, but feel like an eternity to Cas, Dean sits absolutely still, clenching the wheel hard enough to make his knuckles go white. Cas looks at him silently, with a growing feeling of dread, because he’s sure something is about to happen. Something important, and it won’t be good.

 

When Dean finally steps out of the car, Cas does the same, and when he sees the look on his friend’s face the constant pain of his own loss is momentarily supressed by compassion. Dean stands perfectly still with one hand on the Impala’s roof, and Cas can see tears in his eyes. One escapes to run down his cheek, and then another, and suddenly Dean turns around and punches the tree that ripped loose the Impala’s door as hard as he can. With a pained groan he drops to his knees, and he punches the tree again, then the ground, and an almost inhuman howl of grief tears out of him.

 

Cas stands frozen on the other side of the car as Dean keeps hitting everything within reach, the desperate sobs tearing at his heart. He wishes he knew what to do, that he knew what a human

 

_I should know, I’m one too now_

 

would want in this situation. Does Dean want comfort, or does he want to be left alone until he’s calmed down? Cas feels his own eyes fill with tears, his own pain returning with full force at the thought of being human, mingling with compassion for Dean, and he doesn’t think he has ever felt more helpless and useless in his life.

 

Eventually, Dean stops punching the tree and slumps on the ground, his head cradled in his hands and shoulder still shaking from heart wrenching sobs. Cas has stood motionless the whole time, unable to figure out what he should do, but now, finally, some

 

_human_

 

instinct tells Cas that Dean needs comfort, that now, when the anger seems to be spent, closeness and the knowledge that he isn’t alone, is what he needs. Cas knows he can’t give Dean what he craves the most, because Sam is gone and won’t ever come back, however much his brother needs him, but what he can do is show Dean that even though he’s

 

_useless_

 

basically human now, he is still Dean’s friend, and he will still do anything and everything he can for him. So he steps around the car and kneels next to Dean, placing a tentative hand on his shoulder.

 

“Dean?” He gets no reply, only louder sobbing, which confuses him, but since he wasn’t immediately rejected he shuffles closer, and wraps his arm around Dean’s shoulders. Somewhere in the back of his mind he wonders if this is what Dean would usually call a “chick flick moment”, and half expects him to pull away. Instead Dean leans into the touch, burying his face in Cas’ shirt, the tears soaking through the fabric within seconds. Instinctively Cas wraps both his arms around him, hugging him tightly and stroking his back with small, circular motions he’s seen other humans use when comforting someone. “Dean?” he murmurs, not really expecting an answer, so he almost misses it when the muffled words starts to spill out.

 

“It’s – it’s Sammy – he’s gone, an’ – and I miss ‘im, I – I never sh-shoulda let ‘im go, an’ – an’ I wish I could – go back an’ f-fix things, but I can’t, Cas.” He raises his head, his eyes meeting Cas’. “An’ you h-here, human.” Fresh tears well up, running unchecked down his cheeks, though the sobbing has mainly stopped. “It’s my fault, Cas, that you couldn’t leave with ‘em.”

 

It startles Cas that Dean blames himself for this

 

_but he does have a point_

 

when it was Cas who chose to rebel, Dean never forcing him to

 

_but he_ is _the reason_

 

do anything.

 

“It wasn’t your fault, Dean”, he chokes out, the words almost sticking in his throat because

 

_I don’t think I ever lied to him before_

 

and it feels wrong, but what choice does he have? He can’t exactly agree with Dean on this, not openly.

 

They stay silent for a while, sitting on the ground, not touching anymore, and avoiding each other’s eyes. Then Dean gets up and opens the trunk of the Impala, quickly picking out the necessary things and as much of the rest the two of them can carry. Cas rises too, and takes the items Dean hands to him.

 

“C’mon, let’s go, we’re basically at the camp.” Dean’s voice is gruff and hard, and Cas knows that the tone means “this never happened, and we won’t ever mention it again” without Dean having to say it aloud. So Cas only nods and follows Dean when he starts walking, a cold feeling growing in his stomach when Dean doesn’t spare a single glance at the Impala as he walks away. Cas doesn’t need his angelic powers to know that this time, Dean won’t fix the car, like he’s always done before. This time, it will be left alone, a wreck symbolizing the closing of a chapter in Dean’s life.

 

Cas only looks back once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know what to do!


	4. Camp Chitaqua

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Camp Chitaqua as base camp, Cas has to face that he will need to learn to fight as a human now, and that he is losing all that defined him as an angel.

They quickly realize Chuck is right, Camp Chitaqua is an ideal place to use as base camp, so they decide to settle down there as permanently as they can during the circumstances.

 

Chuck is already there when they arrive, and he tells them that he has already arranged for another hunter, who is also on his way, to pick up Bobby. Dean just grunts in reply, but Cas can see that he’s relieved. There is much to do, and having that taken care of means one less thing for him to worry about.

 

Excluding Chuck, there are twelve refugees in the camp when they arrive, only two of them having any kind of weapons training from before the apocalypse, both being ex cops from a nearby town. The only weapons in the camp are their handguns and a shotgun that’s long out of ammo, because they haven’t dared to risk any raids yet, since they are the only ones having any chance of defending the camp. They seem only too happy to hand over the responsibility to Dean.

 

Cas admires them all for deciding to fight back, even the ones who have never held a gun before, and only having survived by running. They have nothing, and the world is falling apart around them, yet they refuse give up. The camp might be disorganized and they’re all on the brink of starvation, with the camp’s food supply quickly dwindling and no means of getting more, but they still get by somehow.

 

Cas wonders, but never asks, what their motivation can possibly be at a time like this.

**~SPN~SPN~SPN~**

Dean easily steps into the role as leader for the camp, and it’s easy to see that it’s good for him to have people to take care of again.

 

He puts Chuck in charge of all administrative duties, and when Bobby arrives along with a young hunter named Trevor none of them but Chuck has met before, the older man is given the task of giving everyone at least some basic combat training, with Trevor as his assistant to help with the physical aspects. Cas is simply told to practice shooting and hand-to-hand combat with the others.

 

“You ain’t an angel anymore, son, so you gotta learn to fight like us mortals now”, as Bobby puts it, and Cas almost smiles at being called ‘son’ by a human who really is millions of years younger than him.

 

“Yes”, he agrees, and the hollow feeling of loss he’s felt ever since the angels left intensifies into an almost physical pain as he accepts the gun Trevor hands him, completely crushing the urge to smile. He turns the gun in his hands, wondering how this little piece of metal and plastic can possibly do him any good.

 

 _Once I could exorcize demons with a touch, and move a thousand miles with only a thought, and now this is all I have to defend myself with,_ he thinks, once again wondering why he had to be left behind. Then he takes a deep breath, resolutely pushing all thoughts of that kind out of his head, and tries to concentrate on what Bobby is saying instead, but finds that his thoughts start drifting almost immediately. The things Bobby is saying right now are things he already knows anyway, about demons and what does and doesn’t work on them, a subject that is obviously important for the others to learn as much as they can about, but hardly something Cas needs to pay much attention to.

 

Instead, he silently starts reciting Enochian exorcisms, desperately hoping that he can still remember them. However, the small relief

 

_I can still remember my language, I still have something left, maybe this means there is still a trace of Grace in me_

 

only lasts a moment, a cold fear replacing it, followed by a certainty he can’t explain that he will forget this, too. _I need to write it down, as much as I can, at least the exorcisms and protective symbols_ , he thinks. _As soon as I can, and I –_

 

“Cas! You listening?” Cas blinks as Bobby’s voice once again jerks him back to reality.

 

“I – I’m sorry – “ He tries to think of what to say, and sees that the others have started dissembling their guns. Apparently he’s been lost in his musings longer than he thought.

 

“Now, pay attention! Dissemble it and put it back together, as quick as you can.”

 

“Yes.” Cas begins to take the gun apart like Dean showed him just two weeks earlier. This one is slightly different, but it doesn’t take him long to figure it out anyway, and despite having started last he is the second person to finish the task. Bobby grunts his approval before telling him to do it again, and keep doing it until he could do it in his sleep.

 

Cas sighs and begins taking the gun apart again. It will be a long… everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews are love!

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed the read, reviews and kudos make me very happy!


End file.
